5.03.2012

In this episode, we see the development of HomefrontSix's inner turmoil and begin to understand why 'normal' is just a setting on the washing machine. And highly overrated, if you ask her.

- hfs

Two and a half years later, The
Boy made his entrance. It was a relatively quiet entrance - no drama beyond
back labor and not being able to eat for 18 hours while I was laboring in the
hospital (and EVERY. SINGLE. COMMERCIAL. WAS. FOR. FOOD.). But his quiet
entrance masked the chaos that was to reign for 6 months. Pyloric stenosis
(undiagnosed thanks to condescending doctors and my lack of experience in being
a forceful pain in the butt parent) plus colic plus reflux plus a toddler with
potty-training issues equals a big freaking mess. Oh, and just for kicks, add
in there flight school and a mild case of post-partum depression (probably
brought on by all of the other variables).

If it hadn't been so crappy, it would have been funny.

But it wasn't.

We didn't go anywhere, not that there was anywhere TO go in Enterprise, Alabama. And when we did, we went with 3 changes of clothes for
everyone. The Boy was incredibly adept at puking on anyone and everyone within
a 3-foot radius. Eight ounces in, six ounces out. Because of this, I never let anyone hold him. The sad thing was, *I* didn't want to hold him. What mother doesn't want to hold her OWN CHILD? We didn't use burp rags, we
used hand towels and bath towels. And it was a blessing that the flooring in the houses at Fort
Rucker were linoleum tile. He puked all.the.time. It was embarrassing. It was
maddening. It was depressing. It was my life. And, for a time, it was awful. We
joke about it now but I'm pretty sure that, had a roving band of gypsies or
carnies come past my house, I would have handed him to them. I say that in jest
now, but at the time, a very large part of me wanted to be anywhere other than
where I was. And I wanted to smell like anything other than baby barf. But the guilt associated with even just that thought was gut-wrenching.

That set up an internal struggle, the magnitude of which I am just now
beginning to realize. I resented both of my children, but mainly my son. What
little 'life' I thought I had prior to his arrival vaporized along with any
thought of sleep I might have hung on to. My last shred of independence was
gone and I was unable to reconcile myself with any of it.

It was a long
six months.

And my husband was unable to
offer much in the way of help. I'm not sure exactly what we were smoking when
we decided that flight school was a good time to have a baby. It probably would
have been easier on everyone if we had opted to have a baby while he was
deployed. At least then, I wouldn't have had to try (unsuccessfully) to keep
quiet a baby suffering from the digestive issues my son was dealing with. I was
home with screaming Sir Pukes A Lot all day and, when MacGyver was able to come home from
school in the evening, I had to try to keep screaming Sir Pukes A Lot quiet so MacGyver could
study and then sleep in order to get up and do it again the next day.

Like I said, having a baby while my husband was deployed would have been
easier. On EVERYONE. I'm still not sure how we made it through that time period
with our marriage and our sanity in tact. God's grace, I suppose.

But he grew out of the puking/screaming/not-sleeping stage just as I grew INTO
my role as a mother. I don't know what changed in my brain but I'm sure it
had to do with an increase in the meager amount of sleep I was getting combined
with a decreasing frequency of Exorcist-like puking episodes from The Boy.
Whatever it was, things eased up just slightly and I felt like I could breathe
again.

I've always said that 6-12 months is my favorite baby stage and The Boy
reinforced that belief. At about 6 months he started keeping his food down on a
more consistent basis. He started sleeping for more than 2 hours at a stretch.
He stopped screaming all the time. He started being much more fun. I'd say he was much less
work but I'd be lying. He was a master at undoing any and every attempt I made
at trying to clean my house. He was a one man wrecking crew and his sister
cheered him on. I was, at that point, outnumbered in that department. A
foreshadowing time, if you ask me as I am still completely outnumbered in the
'keeping the house respectable' department.

His whiny,
cranky disposition gave way to an easy-going, easy-smiling baby and he was much
more enjoyable to be around. We relaxed. And we moved to Hawaii. And Hawaii
makes EVERYTHING better, doesn't it? Yes, yes it does. The digestive issues hadn't
completely resolved but who cared? It was easy enough to dip him in the ocean
and rinse him off. And warm enough to strip him down to his diaper should he
make a mess of his clothes (which he did. Often.).

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I think I have one more part left. It's not done yet but it's getting there. Might be two parts. We'll see. Thanks for stopping by!

7 comments:

I read the part 1, and I've read the part 2. I keep shaking my head yes and giggling because I know exactly what you mean. Your number 2 was my number 3. I didn't want anything at all to do with her. She is the sweetest most precocious 5 year old you have ever seen. I opted to stay home after baby number 4 was born nearly 4 years ago, and I'm just now growing into the SAHM row.

Man, do I *get* where you're coming from! The VES went through a phase where she chipmunked (sometimes for hours) every piece of meat that went into her mouth. But, as with the Boy, she eventually grew out of it, and now steak is her favorite meal.Go fig, huh?

Hi, I found your blog after searching for "undiagnosed pyloric stenosis". Just curious when you discovered your son had it and what symptoms be may have had as he got a bit older....I have a four year old with eating and weight gain issues who had severe reflux issues (we called him Sir Pukes a Lot also) as an infant. No more spitting up at this point but sometimes complains of stomach pain after eating. Have had lots of bloodwork done but never any medical imaging or mention of this condition. Kind of makes me wonder...thanks for any info :)

Hi Jennifer! Sorry it took me so long to comment - it was lost in moderation.

The Boy was never officially diagnosed. It wasn't until after he stopped puking constantly that someone mentioned PS and I started researching. I thought he pretty much just grew out of it but something you just said makes me wonder...he often complains of stomach pain after eating. I chalked it up to a lactose intolerance (he loves the Yo on the Go smoothies from Costco and his tummy always seemed to hurt after drinking one) but now I'm wondering...

He's also on the slim side. At 8.5, he weighs just over 50 pounds. Not off the scale but definitely in the slim category, though the docs don't seem concerned about his weight and his uncles both were slender at this age.

I thing I'm going to go do a little more research. Have you consulted with a Pediatric GI Specialist? We had to with The Girl (for other issues) so we're familiar with them. You might want to see if you can talk to one. Let me know what you find out!